As You Wish Again
by SRV42
Summary: Work in Progress.
1. ROUGH DRAFT 1

Hey... don't hate me, it's my first try.

Chapter 1

The pirate ship Revenge needed some work. By some work, I mean that the sails were shredded, masts were splintering, and deck was leaking in just about every spot except one. It was on that one spot that Westley stood, trusting his balance to keep him standing upright on the decrepit ship. Buttercup's beautiful nose wrinkled in disgust as she gazed upon the remains of the ship.

"Well, at least the masts are still standing," Westley, ever the optimist, volunteered. As he spoke, a giant crack split the air. A shroud snapped, and the foremast crunched through the topmost deck. Inigo looked at the ship, looked away, then carefully formed a question.

"Are you sure-"

"Don't say it," Westly interrupted, "it looks a little rough now, but with a little paint, and a new mast..."

Inigo's dark Spanish eyes traced the outline of the horizon thoughtfully. There was no talking to the man in black when he became so determined... so single-minded. Inigo sighed. It wasn't that much different from Vinzzini. Some things were destined never to change, he thought as he looked down at his hands. They were still streaked with blood, even though the wounds he had received at the hands of the man who had murdered his father were not gushing his life-blood anymore, they still ached irritatingly. "No, that's not it, it's-"

Westley interrupted him again. "We'll get a new ship, Inigo, don't worry about-"

"Listen to me! Why can you people never listen to a word I say. I try and try to tell you about something and you interrupt and keep interrupting and I never get the chance to say-"

"Look!" It was Fezzik who interrupted this time, and everyone looked where he pointed. A long line of Prince Humperdinck's soldiers were galloping toward the Revenge.

"The next time you are so worried about the condition of things, Inigo, maybe you should remember your first duty, as lookout," Westley chided, as he grabbed Buttercup's arm and jumped from the ship. Inigo turned scarlet. Buttercup said, "Ow!"

"Sorry." Westley apologized hurriedly, a reflex rather than an honest thought. He lifted Buttercup onto her milky white horse, and mounted his own. He didn't look back as he spurred on the animal, trusting that the other would follow him.

The four galloped down the shoreline, away from Floren and their pursuers. The frenzied shouts of the soldiers and the Prince himself drifted down the incline to them on the warm afternoon air, and it only served to drive them on faster in spite of their exhaustion and Inigo's wounds.

Within minutes, they spotted a small sailboat not far off the coast, moored to a rock. There was barely enough room for them all, and Inigo found himself wondering if it would support their combined weight. But there was no time to be concerned with such trivialities, he convinced himself. Bracing his hands on the horse's hindquarters he swung a leg over its neck and dropped to the ground. All four boarded the small vessel, crushing each other aside with elbows, shoulders, and anything else that was handy, and set sail.

"If we hurry, we'll be out of range." Westley enjoyed stating the obvious. The wind sided with them as they raised the sail, and very soon they were drifting out toward the shores of Guilder. They could see Humperdinck's men now, standing on the shore, shouting and pointing. Buttercup sighed relief. Her relief however, shared if not expressed by all, was short lived. It lasted exactly three minutes and forty-two seconds; or, in other words, until the cannonball hit the water just to the starboard side of the vessel. Then she screamed.

"Don't panic!" Westley stated, panicking. "Everyone get down!" This, of course, caused all four to bang heads as they attempted to get as close to the deck as possible.

"What should I do?" asked Heinrich.

"Stay down!" Westley shouted.

"Okay." Heinrich stayed down. Another cannonball displaced the water 100 yards to the port side.

Westley sighed. He realized it was going to be very difficult for him to look like he was in control and in charge if cannonballs were going to be fired at them continuously. He swallowed the urge to whimper and hide behind Buttercup. 


	2. ROUGH DRAFT 2

Chapter 2

Humperdinck was, in short, very put out. What did it take nowadays to murder your wife and start a war? Such a simple thing and it had all gone so very wrong. He had half a mind to just let his almost-wife-to-be flee with that mean looking pirate thief of hers. But he was afraid of being taunted, and most of all, he loved a good hunt.

But there was something missing this time; there was no one to back him up. Count Rugen had been slaughtered, leaving a gap in the prince's usual entourage. The loss of the count gave Humperdinck a sudden burst of courage to seek out and destroy the vermin that had committed such acts of treason. History books would, in the future, tell the story of the brave prince and the evil that he had defeated. Even if he had to write them himself.

As cannons fired at the ragged old Revenge, Humperdinck's determination grew. They would simply have to hunt the offenders. A smirk slowly spread across his face as the realization of this new game came to light.

Prince Humperdinck rode through the ranks of soldiers that had followed him from the castle, and spoke loudly to them in a voice that commanded respect.

"We shall simply have to organize a hunt," he commanded. "Anyone who does not wish to participate will be allowed to leave now; but you will be murdered before daylight tomorrow. Any questions?" Silence greeted his edict. "Very well. Tomorrow we shall set sail for the black waters of the Dread Pirate Roberts."

Murmurs ran through the ranks as the soldiers set up camp. A high ranking lieutenant rode up to Prince Humperdinck, a worried expression on his face.

"Sir, Baron Heinrich is missing from the ranks," the lieutenant confided. A look of complete indifference spread rapidly across Humperdinck's face as he became bored with the expedition.

"Send word then, through the land, that Baron Heinrich is to be shot on sight."

--§--§--§--

"HaHA!" Westley laughed aloud, with self-confidence that only comes from being shot at by large cannonballs and yet escaping anyways. Buttercup, although overjoyed at the turn of events, gave Westley a look behind his back that might have been interpreted by one who didn't realize that he was her true love, as rolling her eyes.

Heinrich stood up and brushed his palms together, as if disposing of dust created there by the pursuit of the prince. It was then that his companions realized his existence.

"Who are you?" Inigo questioned, his hands itching to use his sword once more.

"Heinrich," Heinrich replied.

"Oh." Inigo, satisfied, sat down.

The Revenge sailed quickly through the eel infested waters, toward the patch of ocean where not even the bravest men dared to venture: the territory of the Dread Pirate Roberts.

Of course, since Inigo, Fezzik and Buttercup knew that Westley WAS the Dread Pirate Roberts, they were slightly less worried about it.

Until, of course, the first cannonball hit the side of the Revenge. 


End file.
